


Snow Storms

by Merick



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Comrades in Arms, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merick/pseuds/Merick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gawain and Merlin are overtaken by a storm and Morgana's henchmen on the way home from delivering a missive to an ally of Arthur they are rescued by an unknown woman. How their encounter changes three paths. Set in the years of Arthur's peace, traditional legend characters will interact with those from the BBC series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snow Storms and Posions

His leg had nearly stopped hurting, mostly because the cold had numbed him to such a degree he could hardly feel his feet, let alone the tear across his left calf. The cold had also mostly frozen the blood that had been dripping from the gash, and Merlin supposed that might be the one good thing about freezing to death, not bleeding to death; though he wasn’t sure which way of going would be less painful. And, of course, he didn’t just have himself to worry about; though instead of it being Arthur he was dragging, unconscious towards some kind of safety, this time it was Gawain. 

They had been racing for home, trying to outrun a snowstorm on their steeds, returning from a simple errand, to deliver a missive to a local chief, a day out and back, or it should have been, but for Morgana. Merlin had been cursing himself for his lack of foresight for the last half hour (by his reckoning), ever since Gawain had fallen from his mount with a frightening severity, the lump on the back of his head the least of his worries, the dart in his neck the most.

The whizzing of a second dart had flown past Merlin’s ear as he had leapt off his own horse, sadly taking the beast down nearly as stiffly as Gawain. A conjured snow squall had given him the cover he had needed to drag Gawain into the dark of the trees, but he had had to keep moving to outdistance the assassin, and stumbling through the undergrowth, pulling a nearly lifeless Gawain in his full chainmail kit and sword had led to a slip, and a tumble, and a branch that felt like a stake that he’d had to pull out of his own flesh without screaming. At least no one was pursuing them any longer, though they’d probably succumb to the storm, which was what Morgana’s men were likely counting on. They were probably right to make that assumption and return to their own warm beds for the night.

The darkness had enshrouded them, and Merlin was running out of energy, evidenced by the longer and longer pauses he felt himself forced to take; both to check on Gawain’s condition, and to catch his own breath and fortify his muscles to continue. His friend still had a heartbeat, slowed as it was, and was still breathing out a thin white fog, but whatever the poison was that was running in his veins; Merlin’s inactivity was doing nothing but hastening its deadly effects. It was difficult not to feel the hopelessness of his situation as he stared up into the night sky, moon and stars obscured by thick cloud, snow beginning to fall in earnest. He could not even think of a spell that would help them just then, his mind being so scattered by the panic and numbness that was seeping into him. 

“It cannot end like this!” He screamed out loud, or at least he thought he screamed out loud, he wasn’t really sure if it had been vocal or just in his mind. Wrapping his arms around Gawain’s shoulders, clutching the man close, in the last act of protection he could offer, he let his head sink down against the sodden red cloak, the cloak worn by all of Arthur’s Knights. “I am so sorry.” He whispered to anyone that might be able to hear; sorry for himself and Gawain and Arthur and Gaius, everyone he was leaving behind. Then he was quiet as the snow began to cover them both over.

“Please don’t stop talking.” The voice was hushed, like a breath, startling Merlin, but not quite enough to raise himself off the ground to search for its origin. It was likely no more than the hallucinations of his approaching death he reasoned, for as much as he could still do that.

“I am close, please, please do not be dead.” The second sentence, louder, heard not in his ears, but within his head, did cause Merlin to look up. He thought he could see something through the snow, but it was indistinct, and difficult to tell.

“Is someone there?” That plea he sent out in the ways of the Druids for certain, forcing his mind to concentrate on the words, and the emotions behind them.

“I am here.” The black shape coalesced into a proper form, as much as it could be defined, wrapped in a thick fur robe, kneeling down beside him. Warm hands touched his face, and he turned it to look at his supposed savior, her face still shrouded by the folds of her hood.

“Help us.” His eyes flashed their brilliant amber for a heartbeat, with his weak though audible cry, and he thought he saw the curve of a smile in the shadow.

“I will.” Again it was only in his head that he heard her. “Can you stand? Can we carry your friend?” Hands moved under his arms and tugged at him. She wasn’t strong, but she was real, as real as he and Gawain were, and that tangible response gave Merlin the hope he needed to rise from his knees, and pick up Gawain again. But this time he had help, as his rescuer slung Gawain’s left arm over her shoulder, taking half the load. She was strong enough somehow, and the now trio, began to move again.

 

She led Merlin towards a small hut, one that almost looked as if it had been built into the side of the hill it fronted, the walls looking like sod pieces and interspersed branches, where they could be seen through the snow that was. There might have been a small garden in the front, it seemed demarcated, even through the whiteness, leftover stalks still poking forth from the earth. Through the now denser falling snow Merlin could see the plume of a hearth fire, and he began to feel warmer even before he entered the modest home.

His senses proved valid as she unlatched the door and the heat of the fire enveloped them all. The flames were not high, and a cooking pot took up a good portion of the stone enclosure, so there wasn’t a great deal of light cast, but there was enough to see the interior of the cottage. 

“Bring him to the hearth.” Merlin was only too happy to do so, and collapse before it himself, rubbing his fingers together rapidly to restore the feeling in them. His toes began to prickle uncomfortably, but he ignored them, instead, pulling his own cloak and then his pouch off his shoulders turning to Gawain, still supine, still motionless, and still dying.

“He’s been poisoned. Can you help him?” She hadn’t removed her cloak yet, but she had let the hood fall back, revealing masses of light brown hair, tied and pinned back on her head in strands, loose tendrils still hiding much of her. She bent to Gawain and brought her face very close to his, Merlin could see her breathing deeply, inhaling, perhaps she could smell what the poison was he wondered? He remained silent, and only watched as she stood and left them both by the hearth. Removing her cloak she laid it beside herself on a bench. As Merlin watched, her hands moved surely and rapidly while she remained mute, busying herself at a wooden table over which hung bundles of herbs, dried by the fire no doubt. She was going through baskets laden with other ingredients, some of which Merlin recognized, others, which he did not. Things were mixed with a hurried precision that he recognized, and pressed into a linen square. She returned to Gawain’s still form and pressed the poultice against the wound on his neck, cradling his head carefully as she bound it there securely with a length of cloth. Once that was done she undid the ties of his cloak and stripped it, standing with it. For a moment she watched the melting snow drip from the folds onto the floor, fixated it seemed by the transmutation. She hung it with reverence on a wooden peg by the fire, ostensibly to dry, but kept her hands on the fabric.

“What have you used?” Merlin whispered, “to help him.” He heard her response in his head.

“Mostly charcoal, eye-bright, tea-tree, other things, to draw out the poison. Because he has been so cold it has slowed down the progress of it. The poultice will take what it can, the rest we will draw forth ourselves.” She turned back to Merlin, worry clouding her face. “Your leg?” Merlin looked down, it had begun to bleed again, and ache, now that he thought about it. “May I care for you Emrys?”

“You know who I am?” They spoke as the druids did, and Merlin could finally look into the eyes of the woman who had come out of the dark. 

“I do.” Her eyes were darker than her hair, not in a sinister way, not black, more like a deep pool of cold water, a blue that looked as Magical as it seemed she was. Her skin was pale, which only made her eyes stand out more, and her lips, even though they were more pale pink than red. The rouge of her cheeks, due to the cold no doubt, was fading, leaving a perfect surface of cream. “May I care for you?”

“Thank you.” He nodded. Her smile was beatific, and Merlin began to feel quite self-conscious, but the tea she brought to him, and her delicate touch on his skin as she secured the cup in his hand, combined with the leaves she gave him to chew, relieved not only the pain, but also his discomfort at having someone attend to him as if he was royalty. She removed his boots, placing them by the fire to dry, and brought him a blanket to wrap over his shoulders. Then she began to wash the wound with warm water mixed with some of the same smelling herbs as he had recognized in the poultice from Gawain’s neck. Merlin reached out a hand to check on his friend, feeling for his pulse even as she drew her fingers over his leg. He could not help but tremble as she dressed the gash, which looked considerably better somehow since she had cleaned it: the bleeding having stopped along with the throbbing. He took comfort from that, and from Gawain’s heartbeat, recovering finally as he warmed up. 

“May I ask your name?”

“My spoken name is Eve, though there is no one left who calls me by that.”

“Your family is gone?”

“They are, I am alone, I have been alone for a very long time.” Her eyes spoke of sadness, even though her voice did not, because she had yet to say a word.

“You are a Druid?”

“I am.”

Merlin felt a little uncomfortable with their inaudible conversation, but he chided himself for it, after all, she was as close to a kindred spirit as he had found in many months. He looked at her as she returned to Gawain, beginning to tug at the chainmail. Since Merlin had a great deal of experience with such things he offered his help, which was gratefully accepted. Once it, and the padded undergarments were free (as gently as it could be managed from an unconscious knight, with Merlin not putting too much weight on his injured leg as he yanked), Eve began to unlace Gawain’s shirt.

“The heat must do its work now.” She announced. His sodden shirt was laid out over the hearth as Gawain too was wrapped in a blanket, a fur laid over that, and a second bundled under his head. “The poison will weep from his skin, but he must take in water to replace what he will lose.” She pressed a wet rag to his lips, moistening them, letting small rivulets run into his mouth as she stroked under his chin, careful not to dislodge the poultice. Her eyes glowed golden for an instant as Merlin watched, and Gawain began to swallow.

“You have Magic.”

“Will you tell him?” She gestured down to Gawain, still cradled in her arms, his head in her lap.

“Not without your permission.”

“I thank you Emrys.”

“You should call me Merlin in front of him.”

“I have no voice beyond the one you can hear Emrys. I cannot speak your name, or his, or anyone’s, unless they are like us. Is your friend a Druid as well?”

“He is not, he is Gawain, a knight of the realm, of Arthur’s Court. But he is an honest and true man, noble and loyal to a fault.”

“He is your friend?”

“He is. And I thank you for saving his life, and my own.”

“It has been my honor Emrys, for if you say he is a man of worth, then I am pleased to have been of service to you and to him.” She brushed the cloth over Gawain’s lips again, and again he swallowed some of the water. Perspiration was beginning to bead on his forehead, with her sleeve Eve dabbed it away. The room grew silent, and the storm outside howled down the chimney, making the fire flicker. 

“Let me put more wood on the fire.” The instinct was ingrained after so many years of serving Arthur, and Merlin had the fire built up again in moments, guarded by its size against any other drafts the wind might bring.

“If you wish to rest Emrys, I will tend to your Sir Gawain here. There is no shame in admitting the exhaustion you must be feeling.”

“You are kind my Lady.” And Merlin curled into the blanket she had given him, and laid his head down on his arm, his eyes finally able to close knowing that for the moment he and his friend were safe. He barely registered the gentle touch of her fingers on his forehead, and perhaps, her lips, as he drifted away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversation within the *'s is meant to be telepathic. Sorry, I couldn't figure out the italics.

When he woke it was easy; no sudden startling confusion over where he was, no panic over Gawain, just a sense of wellbeing. Merlin couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such peace on wakening. Camelot and Arthur brought such great worries to him that he hardly felt, most nights, as if he slept at all. The anxiety of his fate weighed heavily on his chest more nights than not. But this heaviness he felt was quite different. He became aware of a weight on his abdomen, nothing oppressive, just something beyond the blanket itself. It was comforting. He opened his eyes, and even though the light of the room was still dim, he could see Eve’s hand resting on him, palm side down, her other one resting on Gawain in much the same fashion. She was sitting between them, eyes closed, head bowed, legs curled under her, her grey, woolen surcoat puddled around her feet. For some reason Merlin felt the need to cover her hand with his, and so he did; she did not startle either. Her skin was soft, and warm, and he almost believed that he could feel her pulse and Gawain’s all at once.

*Are you awake my Lady?*

*I am.* The voice in his head was musical. *Are you well?* She turned her head to see him, smiling as she did; more of her hair had slipped free of her pins, and it framed her features like strands of embroidery silk. Merlin took a mental stock of his own body. He was warm, fingers and toes all worked, and his leg, though it ached (and seemed to be sporting a new bandage), seemed very steady. He returned the smile and then looked more closely at Gawain. His friend’s color had returned, and his breathing was quite steady. It gladdened his heart to see it.

*He is well Emrys. He has not woken yet, but the night passed uneventfully. I believe the medicines have pulled the poison from him. If you will keep watch I will prepare us something to eat.*

*Have you slept at all Eve?*

*I have rested, that is enough.*

She made to stand but Merlin held her hand fast against his body. 

*You must rest Eve, lay beside Gawain, I will make us something from your stores if you will give me permission. You have done so much.*

She smiled and nodded, and as Merlin released her hand she lay down beside the knight. Merlin covered her with the blanket she had given him. Her face turned to look into his, not really asking a question, so much as trying to gleen things from him wordlessly with her deep blue eyes.

*I will try not to make too much noise my Lady.* She nodded and let her eyes close. Merlin watched her for a moment as her facial features softened, and moving carefully, added more wood to the fire and grabbed up his cloak, warm from the hearth, venturing outdoors to look for the well. He did not make it far, as the storm was raging, and he wondered how it was that it was barely apparent within the cottage, but of course, Eve had magic, and perhaps she had a charm on her home he reasoned as he tried to make sense of the white world that greeted him.   
Quickly abandoning the search for the well, he filled the pot with snow and brought it back inside, closing the door fast to keep the cold out. He set the pot to warm over the fire, careful not to disturb the two sleeping bodies, setting about to hunt for some vegetables to make some type of broth.

*In the chest under my worktable.*

Merlin could not help but laugh, though he clapped his hand over his mouth as he did it to stifle the noise.

In an hour he had a decent soup, with potatoes and turnip chunks cut up into it to add some substance. Neither Eve nor Gawain had stirred a mite while he had worked, even though he had checked on them both several times. It was odd, the feeling he had that they were safe there, after all, Gawain had been poisoned, and near death less than a day ago, but somehow he felt the wellbeing of knowing everyone was mending as they should. And it gave him comfort to watch over them; his closest friend (besides Gaius) and a new friend, Eve for he truly felt a bond, likely because of their shared past. It was all very insulated in the little cottage, and for that time, Merlin pushed all the worries of his real life aside. It was bliss.

Kneeling beside them both he first checked Gawain’s pulse (again) and found it steady and strong (again), and then he brushed a hand over Eve’s hair, tucking a lock behind her ear, coaxing her to awaken gently. She took a deep breath and slowly moved her head about, all without opening her eyes. Another breath and she smiled, smelling the dinner simmering. She pushed herself to sitting and carefully maneuvered herself away from Gawain, taking the arm Merlin offered her to stand. 

*It smells wonderful Emrys.* He watched as she finger combed out the few tresses that had come loose, and repined them with a twist of her wrist. He could finally see the soft curves of her face, and he found himself staring at how beautiful she was: now that his mind was free to notice such things. He motioned for her to sit at her own table as he ladled out soup for them both and placed the bowls down.

*I have so many questions.* He began as he cut a piece of bread off the loaf between them.

*I will answer what I am able.*

*How did you find us?*

*You were yelling quite loudly, and with a warlock of your strength, I could not help but hear and come to your aid.*

*I was, was I?* His grin was impish over his spoon, and returned in kind. 

*Whom were you running from if I might ask?*

*Her name is Morgana, or rather, we were running from her men. She is a sorceress and sister to the King, she wishes to kill him, and anyone loyal to him.*

*What a terrible thing, to wish to kill your own brother.*

*She wishes only the throne, feeling it has been denied to her.*

*But to live a life with such hatred, it seems a sad purpose and a sad existence.*

*I have had a difficult time seeing her as pitiable, she has been responsible for so many deaths.*

*But not yours, nor that of your friend.*

*Not yet at least.*

*Not ever, I hope and pray.*

*You are so kind Eve.* He wanted to say innocent, because he could not conceive of anyone holding a kind thought towards Morgana, especially once they had been witness to her evil.

*The old religion teaches us such things Emrys. For how can we be an example to others, and to our enemies, towards change, if we do not come forth with open hearts and open minds?*

*You are very wise Eve, who has taught you such things?*

*My grandmother, until she left this plane to be with her people. She taught me the herb-craft and the ways of the druids.*

*And your magic?*

*Yes, it was she that taught me about magic, and also those in her trusted circle. I miss her terribly some days, but know that she is happy in Avalon, on the isles where she is not persecuted and she is free.*

*One day we shall bring that tolerance to Camelot. Arthur shall make the peace.* The words had been so well practiced they sprang to mind in an instant.

*You serve his Highness?*

*I do, it is my destiny to protect him.*

*But he does not know what you are?*

*He does not, it isn’t time to reveal that to him yet. But it will come.*

*You have great faith Emrys, and I am one who certainly understands the constraints of destiny. It is an honor to be here with you.*

*Rather it is I here with you, in your home, at your service my Lady.*

He reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, until there was a moan from the hearth, and both first turned to witness Gawain beginning to stir, and second leapt up to attend to him.

Eve reached him first, putting a hand on his forehead, and the other on his cheek, turning his head gently towards her. His eyes flickered then opened, a typical boyish Gawain smile blooming on his face. 

“Hello Beautiful.” He took a deep breath, his chest rising and then falling slowly as he seemed to assess his situation. 

“Gawain?” Merlin knelt beside Eve.

“So you’re here too are you Merlin?”

“I am. How do you feel?”

“Alive. So I suppose that’s good eh?”

Merlin laughed and shook his head.

“Trust you to see it that way my friend.”

“Where are we?”

“We are in Eve’s cottage. She’s been caring for you, for both of us since we were attacked.”

“Morgana? I don’t remember much.” 

“You were hit with a poisoned dart of some sort. We escaped into the woods, but without horses it was a little dire. Until Eve found us.”

“Then I owe you my thanks Lady Eve.” He grinned at her, and tried to raise his hand, but it moved only stiffly. “What’s wrong with me?” His forehead wrinkled.

*The poison has had a paralytic component to it. It may take many more hours, or even days for his muscles to recover.*

“The poison has partially paralyzed your muscles.” Merlin relayed to Gawain. “The cold kept it from serious harm, that and Eve’s medicines, but it may be awhile yet before you regain all your muscle control.”

“Can you help me sit up?” Eve slid her hand under his shoulders, and Merlin grasped his wrist. Together they pulled him to sitting, and he was able to brace himself (a little awkwardly) against the stone hearth. “Well that’s better. You are unhurt then Merlin?”

“Only a gash to my leg, but Eve has tended to that as well.”

“Then we were both lucky that you discovered us.”

Eve smiled shyly and bent her head, averting her gaze from Gawain’s warm brown eyes.

“Will you not speak to me milady?”

“She cannot speak Gawain.”

“Then how do you know what her name is?”

“I, uh, I guessed.” Merlin curled his upper lip in his own grin. “I’m a good guesser.”

“So it would seem.” His expression did not seem entirely convinced. “Do I smell dinner?”

Eve’s silent laugh was no less effective in conveying her amusement. She put her hand on Merlin’s shoulder to still him from rising and she went to the table to fill another bowl, and to break off a chunk of bread for Gawain. When she returned with it he tried to take the proffered spoon but he could not make his fingers wrap around it. The frustration was obvious in his face, until Eve smiled at him again and broke off a piece of bread, soaking it in the broth and bringing it to his mouth. He took it in and chewed slowly, savoring the taste before swallowing.

“That is good.” His tight shoulders relaxed a little.

She motioned for him to eat more bringing another piece to his lips. Merlin watched as Gawain took it again, in slow motion, as Gawain seemed to linger over her fingertips, or her fingertips lingered over his lips, Merlin couldn’t tell, but he also couldn’t stop watching. He knew that the knight was teasing the woman, slowly licking the thick soup from the ends of her fingers, keeping them between his lips for a second longer than he needed to, looking right at her as he did so, gauging her reaction. A blush was rising in her cheeks, but she continued to feed him, till all that was left were the vegetable chunks, which thankfully she gave him on the wooden spoon. Gawain’s eyes were absolutely alight as he ate, and Merlin felt an uncomfortable roiling in his gut at watching them.

“Thank you milady.” Gawain bowed his head (it was the most chivalrous move he could make at that time.) She returned the bow.

*If he does anything that makes you uncomfortable my Lady,* Merlin began.

*I take no offence Emrys. He flirts, it does my heart well to see that he is healing.*


	3. Chapter 3

By the afternoon Gawain was able to move himself about a little more fluidly, even getting to his feet at one point to go outside to relieve himself, though the trip was a short one as the snow still whipped around and stung the skin where it met it. Eve excused herself to wash as well, behind a rough curtain; a blanket thrown up over a rope near her pallet. The men, up until that point deep in conversation about the storm, when it might pass, and when Arthur might send out a party to search for them, grew quiet as they listened to the water splash out of their line of sight. When they chanced to look at each other, both faces were guilty, but complicit in that guilt.

Merlin fetched wood to keep the fire burning, and the day passed not unpleasantly. He still continued to wonder at his lack of anxiety over their situation: at least until the distraction of Eve joining him at the table to prepare a meal as Gawain took another nap. It felt childish, but Merlin could not help but brush his hand against hers when the opportunity presented itself, reaching for the same tool, or the same ingredient. She had some dried meats, which they added to the pot, and more potatoes, and with some flour they were even able to make some doughy biscuits to simmer atop it. As it cooked they sat back on the kitchen bench and watched the flames. Merlin felt her reach for his hand that time.

*It has been so long since I have been able to talk to anyone Emrys. Despite the circumstances that have brought you to me, I am so glad you are here.* She squeezed his hand and held it in her lap.

*I am sorry that you have been so alone for so long.*

*It is just so dangerous for those of us with magic. It is easier to stay isolated to keep safe from those who would persecute us. I do not understand how you have managed to remain concealed in the very court of the King.*

*It has been a combination of good friends, and good luck I must admit.*

The pot on the fire bubbled and the lid rattled. It was all so very domestic, and Merlin found in that instant that he loved it. Especially when Eve leaned towards him, and kissed his cheek very softly before she went to check on the pot. He grinned for no one in particular.

 

Gawain’s strength returned slowly as the night waxed, he was able to make it to the table to eat, and even to feed himself his dinner, not that it stopped his continued flirting with Eve, a jovial tone that set the mood for the meal for them all, even Merlin. In her way she communicated with them both, making a game of having Gawain guess what she wished to say when Merlin seemed to know it instinctively. The frustration made for much laughter, even Eve’s silent motions. She seemed so bright with their company, not that Merlin had any stick to measure that by, but he noticed how Eve took the opportunity to touch each of them in tender ways as she moved around, wondering to himself if it was not merely her nature, but her starvation for human contact that prompted her to do so. She provided more blankets for the night and Gawain and Merlin bedded down in front of the fire again, while she retired to her own small pallet, behind the curtains she had used earlier for her modesty. 

*You must call for me if you have need of anything Emrys.* The disembodied voice was almost like a dream for him.

*And you must call for me.* He answered, hoping, quite irrationally that she would. He chided himself for the foolishness, as he closed his eyes and bundled himself in the woolens, perhaps she would have a nightmare and seek out his comfort. It was a happy thought that allowed him to slip peacefully into his sleep.

 

It hardly seemed possible, but the storm greeted them once again as they rose. Gawain, now fully in command of his limbs, wrapped himself in his cloak and went to check for any enemies, or friends in the vicinity. He returned with nothing but frozen cheeks and another bucket of snow to be melted for water. He did a lot of those trips that day; it was easy to see that he was becoming restless. With every trip Merlin could also see Eve becoming tense, but he did not try to guess at why. When Gawain sat himself heavily down on the hearth after his fifth trip she was at his side, taking his cloak to be dried by the fire again, and then, as his head dropped down to his chest and the snow on his hair began to melt and drip onto the floor, she put her hands on his shoulders and began to knead them slowly. He moaned, and let the visible tension drop, his shoulders following.

“If it was not for you milady I would be out of my mind by now.” He took one of her hands from his shoulder, and held it to his cheek. “You have enchanted me.” Eve immediately stiffened; Merlin could hear the gasp from her silent throat in his mind as she pulled away from Gawain, eyes wide, hands now wrapping her core tightly.

“Milady? Oh, milady.” Gawain stood, hands open, “I did not mean to accuse you of anything. Please, I misspoke, I am only so thankful for your kindness and how it brings me peace.” 

Merlin saw Eve’s eyes fill with tears; the fear was obvious in the way she had reined in her gregarious nature.

*I swear Eve, he did not mean it in the way that he has spoken it. He would never betray you, or anyone in that way. He is kind, and honorable, I swear it.* 

*I cannot be betrayed like my family Emrys.*

*He will not betray you.* They stared into each other’s eyes intently.

Gawain dropped to his knees; turning his face up to her, regret obvious in own widened eyes, parted lips, and blanched cheeks.

“Please forgive me.” The tears rolled down her cheeks, and she began to tremble. “I would cut out my tongue for this fear I have brought to you milady.” She shook her head.

“He will not speak a word against you.” Merlin added his voice and offered his hand to coax her from the corner she had backed herself into.   
“You have no reason to fear us.” She let herself be pulled into Merlin’s grasp, her eyes still on Gawain, her arms limp at her sides. Gawain reached for one hand and she let him take it, a silent sob wracking her body as she folded downwards, guided by both Merlin and Gawain safely to the floor, shaking with each silent cry and audible breath.

 

"I am an idiot Merlin. How could have used such words? How could I have accused her thusly? With all her kindnesses?” Eve was composing herself alone and Merlin and Gawain had wrapped themselves in their cloaks, going outside to collect more snow and firewood. Huddled against the most protected side of the cottage Gawain was berating himself.

“You could not have known how she would react Gawain.” Merlin was trying to convince his friend of that because he was beginning to lose the sensation in his toes again, and he found that he did not much like that feeling, or lack thereof. “She will see that truth in you.”

“She may never look at me again.” Gawain spoke through a clenched jaw, staring outwards into the curtain of white.

“She will. Come back inside.” He looked longingly at the door as he spoke.

“A moment, please, Merlin? You go to her first. She trusts you.” Merlin slowly nodded his assent, happy at the prospect of being warm again, but torn by the idea of leaving Gawain alone in his misery. If one thing could be said about Gawain, it was that he did everything with his full heart: passions, fighting, and sorrow. But Merlin did as he asked. 

Eve was sitting by the fire; the tears cleaned from her face, very still and very quiet as he entered. Removing his sodden cloak, and laying his bucket by the door, he went to sit by her, taking her hand again.

*Will you tell me what happened?*

*This magic, it has been both a blessing and a curse Emrys. I was so young when it happened, a baby in the arms of my grandmother, I have only overheard the tales she wished to keep from me, as she spoke to others among her people.* Eve paused, a faraway look overtaking her eyes as she continued her story. Merlin clasped her hand tighter, trying to impart some strength. *A neighbour believed that they had been wronged when their livestock died; with anger and envy the accusations were leveled, and my parents, who had done nothing but offer help and kindness to those around them were dragged from our home and murdered, the house being set aflame. My grandmother escaped with me, exposing her powers as she did, fanning the hatred we fled; all for jealous spite, a few angry words. I have lived with that kind of fear my entire life Emrys. It has made me wary.* She took a deep, shaky breath, which made Merlin’s heart ache, *I did not mean to push Gawain away.*

The door opened slowly, and Gawain entered with an armful of wood, his eyes downcast. He brought the pile to the hearth, putting it down first, and then going to his haunches in front of Eve.

“Will you forgive my foolish words milady?” She laid her hands on his snowy head and bent her face to kiss his forehead carefully, but he tipped his head back at just the same time, almost as if he had planned it, meeting her lips with his own. 

“Gawain!” Merlin lunged for him, startled and astounded, his hand going to Gawain’s shoulder to push him away from Eve, until he realized that she had not pulled away, or made any motion to stop the kiss. It was Gawain who backed slowly away from her.

“It is the most honest thing I know milady, a kiss. A man may have deceit in a word, or an action, even in the way he might present himself to the world, but a kiss, a true kiss reveals the heart, and a false one betrays it. I hope that I have shown you enough of my own heart to be forgiven.” He let his head sag into her lap. She put her hand onto his head and began to twine her fingers into his hair, caressing him very carefully. Merlin watched her chest rise and fall, not with the violent sobs from before, but with a calm that was very nearly ethereal. 

*Eve?*

*Everything is just as it should be Emrys.*

Gawain looked up at her, the line of his mouth straight, waiting for the indication from her. She smiled at him, soft curves brightening her eyes again. He joined her smile, showing the faintest glimmer of his teeth, and leaned forward to kiss her again. When Eve allowed it Merlin began to feel distinctly awkward. He stood and moved away from the pair, sadly, not far enough away that he could avoid hearing their one sided discourse.

“I want you, if you will have me.” Gawain had whispered to her, making Merlin’s stomach turn sour. He would not blame Eve for saying yes, the women all loved Gawain. He was handsome, he was a knight of Camelot, he could charm with his words alone, to say nothing of the charm of his body. Merlin turned away, sick at heart.

“I’ll go outside and just get some water or something. Give you both some time.” His voice faded as he tried to sound unaffected by what he imagined was going on behind his back. The warm hand on his shoulder was unexpected.

*Stay.* He closed his eyes and slowly turned back to her. She brushed the same hand down the side of his face to still him, and leaned in to touch her mouth to his with an unhurried caress. With instinct only Merlin wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, pulling her body to his so he could nearly feel her heartbeat against his chest. 

Holding Merlin’s hand fast Eve pulled him back to where Gawain was still standing by the hearth, she reached for his as well, bringing both knots of entwined fingers to her chest. She glanced from man to man, lips parted, chest quivering which each exhaled breath. It was Gawain who understood and gave voice to her notion first.

“You want both of us.” He whispered, not as a question, but as a statement. His voice never wavered; as if her request was the most reasonable one he had ever heard. 

Eve nodded slowly.

“You are extraordinary milady.” Gawain whispered reverently, his eyes fixed to Eve’s face.

“Gawain?” Merlin was less certain of the implications of the conversation that he had not really been a part of. Gawain broke his gaze with Eve to cast it to Merlin.

“You are my best friend Merlin. There is nothing I would not do for you. I would share my last meal with you, journey and fight at your side, and die for you if needs be. The Lady is Sovereign here, if this is her wish it is mine as well, and my honor.” Gawain paused in his train of thought. Merlin felt the heat of those deep brown eyes, and saw a gentle smile he’d never seen before, at least directed at himself. The acid that had been in his gut turned to something much different it seemed, something no less confusing, but more comfortable at its root.

“Is this your wish my Lady?” Merlin asked the question. He understood the answer in two different fashions, the same each time: ‘it is’. It both thrilled and frightened him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here follows the descriptions of human intimacy, do not proceed if such things offend you. I have tried to craft the language as eloquently as I am able.  
> I hope you enjoy it.  
> Merick

4.  
Merlin laid blankets and Gawain, his cloak on the floor by the hearth, and Eve built up the fire until they had created a sanctuary of sorts, a bower within the cottage, even more intimate and private. Merlin could feel the change in the air around them, like the heightened energy before a thunderstorm, and he wondered if Gawain was as aware of that tension as he was, and if it was magic or just the anticipation and apprehension he supposed they must all being feeling. Eve was staring into the flames, as focused on them as she had been on Gawain’s cloak that first night they had shared there in her home. She was casting a spell, he was sure of it, though to what end he did not know. He had no sense of it being evil though, not as it was when Morgana and her spells were at work: those times brought every fiber of his body to attention. But just then, his heart was racing for an entirely different reason. After a moment she stood straight, turning to the men who were watching her. She went to Merlin first, standing in front of him as he reached out to pull free the ties of her surcoat and to help her guide the woolen fabric off her shoulders. In her linen shift she entered the circle of his arms and took the chaste kiss he offered as Gawain stepped inwards to close the gap, his hands reaching to remove the pins from her hair, combing each strand out as it fell loosely around her shoulders. She trembled as he painted his fingertips down her arms, and then pressed himself into her back, circling his embrace around her abdomen, kissing her neck. He could not hear the moan that slipped from a silent throat, but Merlin could. She turned slowly to face the knight and he sank to his knees, hands running the length of her legs boldly, from hips to ankles before he offered them up for her to join him. She took them, and followed him to the soft bedding as Merlin stepped backwards to release her. 

As he watched, somewhat unsure of how to proceed, Gawain pulled his shirt off over his head and cast it onto the hearth. It was not as if Merlin had never seen him without a shirt on before, but it all seemed very different then; perhaps in the firelight, perhaps because Gawain’s chest was heaving in a way that did not speak of pain, but of another feeling altogether. The confusion returned and he felt rooted to his spot, until Eve looked up at him that was, and he sank down behind her, letting her body rest back against his own chest (which he noted, was also heaving).

He could not look at Gawain as the man hooked his fingertips into the hem of Eve’s shift, and began to bunch it upwards, exposing the length of her pale skin. And he could not look as Gawain loosened his trousers either. Merlin kept his face buried in Eve’s brown hair and his hands over her abdomen, too terrified to move them to her hips or her breasts, even though he had dreamed of it. He was still so frightened of what was about to happen, what was happening, his own heart pounded in his chest as he felt Eve’s body begin to move against him. Everything, in fact, seemed eerily quiet, and Merlin wondered if it didn’t mean that he was about to faint. He certainly felt light-headed. All he could focus on was Eve’s warm hand over his, atop her belly. He did not want to look to see where her other one was. The pressure of her body against his chest intensified and he held her tighter, rolling with her until she was suddenly, awfully, still. In a split second her cries echoed through his head and she went limp in his arms. He held her steady and close as the rest of the world returned around them. Only then could he look at Gawain.

There was a clear peace in the eyes of his friend as he stroked Eve’s face carefully as if he was afraid a harsher touch would somehow break her.

“You are so beautiful.” Merlin heard Gawain whisper. “Thank you for saving my life.” Gawain leaned down to her and kissed her very softly; Merlin hardly felt any pressure, as Eve still lay over his chest.

“And thank you for saving my life again.” Before Merlin even understood that it was he being addressed that time, he felt Gawain draw close to his face. The tender brown eyes were looking into his, and Merlin could not help but draw a sharp, involuntary breath, only a moment before Gawain’s mouth brushed against his forehead and his own eyes closed in deference to the intimacy.

 

Merlin had lost track of both Gawain and Eve for a few moments, as far as he could recollect, but a careful shifting of weight pulled him away from whatever trance he’d been in, back to the present where Eve was sitting just astride his hips, looking down at him with parted lips and wide eyes. Her hands went to his waist, caressing underneath his shirt, coaxing him to pull it off. Though it took him a great deal of effort, Merlin managed it, without getting tangled up in his own sleeves. Eve let her fingers trace over his chest in swirls, Merlin could not keep his moans to himself, but he was surprisingly not self-conscious about it then. 

Summoning up his courage he let his hands rest on Eve’s hips, and as she shifted he became aware that the fabric that had rested between them was gone. The way she danced over him was robbing him of his concentration, pulling him strictly into instinct, (not that he’d thought he had those kind of instincts). Without understanding exactly how it happened, he found that he had pushed down the waistband of his pants, feeling her flesh against his, feeling both of their bodies trembling together. He gave himself to her completely then. 

 

The cottage was quiet but for the crackling of the fire, and the gentle, steady breathing of Gawain, who had closed his eyes and fallen asleep some time back. He had pulled Eve’s body close to his, with one arm wrapped protectively over her side as she faced Merlin. Her eyes though, were on the wizard, even though they fluttered a little with the lateness of the hour. He was running his fingertips over her face, willing himself to stay awake as long as he could, just so he could stay in that moment. Her eyes flashed yellow for a split second and Merlin felt his own slip into that magical realm. 

*You have bewitched me Eve. And I am so glad that you have.*

*I swear to you Emrys I have cast no spell to trick you into this. Neither you, nor Gawain.*

*I know you have not. But I also know that magic has surrounded us this entire time, and that your magic has drawn me to you. It is a part of who you are, and you are, as Gawain has said, extraordinary.*

Tears began to well in her eyes.

*I am not extraordinary, far from it Emrys. I am lost and alone, and cursed.*

*Do not say such things, one day you will be free of this imposed subterfuge. And you will never be alone again.*

Merlin leaned over towards Eve and pressed his mouth to hers shyly. He felt the moisture of her fallen tears wet his cheeks, and parted his lips, coaxing hers apart as well, sharing breath and tears with her. He let the tip of his tongue just caress hers, waiting and hoping for reciprocated passions, and her careful response made Merlin’s blood begin race again, so much so that he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Eve seemed to understand when Merlin’s eyes flashed again, and he carefully lifted Gawain’s hand from her hip, pulling her towards himself and rolling her onto her back. It was Eve herself who took up the hem of her shift, pulling it off slowly, revealing herself completely to Merlin who held his breath at the sight of her.

*Oh my God.* He whispered reverently in his head, if one could be said to whisper in such a fashion.

*Make love to me Emrys. I need you.*

She was beautiful, more than beautiful, practically ethereal, glowing. Merlin was certain that he was staring at her, mouth agape in the ridiculous manner of a besotted boy; though he did acknowledge that he was one just then. His wide eyes were greeted by a simple, sweet smile, even with the tear streaks coloring her cheeks. The balance of her skin was a perfect white, except for the dark circles at the center of her breasts and the shadow between her legs. Suddenly there was courage, fueled by wonder, and he reached out for her, brushing his fingertips down the very center of her chest as she closed her eyes and arched her neck for him, it was the most beautiful curve, especially as he bent his head down to trace kisses along its length. 

She smelled like nature itself, honest in its familiar complexity, like the herbs and plants he worked with everyday in Gaius’ workshop, which brought all the memories of the healing they had wrought. Merlin had never gone so far as to feel pride in the actions of the healing; it was more like validation, just as it was when he used his magic. It was destiny, even when he didn’t fully understand it, just as it seemed to be there with Eve, as if their meeting had been preordained. 

She trembled as he touched her, moving her body to meet his as he lay out over her, balancing himself so as not to crush her, with barely a breath between them. Merlin felt her hands wrap around his back, warm and insistent, her hips caressing his, and so much more. They came together like converging streams, needing to touch each other, and cautiously taste each other all the while rocking together deeply. It was a blissful crescendo, building to his all-encompassing climax and when she released herself to him, Merlin felt the tears prickle in his eyes, and her soft fingertips brushing them from his cheeks. Holding her tightly, they both gave in to exhaustion.


	5. Chapter 5

5.  
Merlin felt her moving about in the same way he felt the dawn come on: slowly, half in a dream state, knowing it was there, but not quite grasping the ramifications of it all. One warmth left him and another took its place, and only when he felt the cold breeze of the open door, did he force himself to actually open his eyes to see Eve’s long black cloak disappearing into the sunshine.

Sunshine?

“Gawain?” Merlin rolled over to poke his friend who had an arm flung over his head, and a sour look on his face.

“Uhhh.” Gawain moaned and tried to pull the blanket over himself before his brain understood what the light meant. When it did, his eyes snapped open and his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Merlin?”

“I think the storm is over.” Merlin sat up and looked around for his shirt, which proved to be partially crumpled under his left hip. He pulled it over his head and struggled to stand in the mess of blankets. He tried purposely not to watch as Gawain did the same thing, unable to avoid comparing his body to that of the much better developed knight, and unable to push the thoughts of the past night from his mind.

“Where is Eve?” Gawain asked, as he too struggled to dress himself.

“She went outside.”

“And you let her go alone?” He cast about looking for his boots.

“She has lived here for many years Gawain, without our protection. She is quite capable.” Merlin put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and held it fast. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed, neither man moving to break the contact, except for Gawain turning his head slowly to look at Merlin. He took a deep breath through parted lips; Merlin had to watch that, he was quite fixated in that instant. 

“Do you regret anything that happened last night Gawain?” He whispered, afraid of the answer. He let his hand drop, breaking their physical contact.

“No. I don’t regret anything.” Neither the brown eyes, nor the voice wavered. Gawain’s famous strength of character underlay it all.

“Sincerely?” Merlin, however, was wavering in his resolve.

“Sincerely Merlin. No regrets.” Gawain let the right side of his mouth curl up as he continued to stare at his friend. “But you? Do you have regrets?”

Merlin took a deep breath. He felt as if his legs were going to give out as he looked at the knight, and remembered everything that had happened between them and with Eve. The breath caught in his chest and he stuttered, wanting so badly to say the right thing.

“I don’t regret it either Gawain.” The other man smiled. 

“Good.” 

“But this game that we are playing at, it is a dangerous one.”

“Everyone we do these days is dangerous Merlin.” Gawain took a step towards him, backing him up against the solid stone of the hearth chimney. His voice became low and serious. “But nothing about this is a game.” And curling his fingers behind the head of his friend, tangling them in the deep brown hair, he pulled Merlin’s face towards his just slightly and pressed his lips to Merlin’s mouth, grinding against him; not with the focused passions of the previous night, but with a depth of feeling that made Merlin’s knees tremble. 

Gawain laughed, his smirk betraying the knowledge that he understood exactly what he was doing to Merlin with his actions. He reached for his boots and pulled them on.

“I’m going out to see what’s happening. You coming?”

“Absolutely.” Merlin grinned, yanking on his own boots. It was so easy to be lighthearted around Gawain, even when your own heart was heavy and confused.

 

Sunlight flooded in the door as Gawain pulled it open; the view outside was glorious. The snow coated the trees, hiding every trace of their natural state, as if the entire world within their view was painted in thick frost. Everything was white, except the pale blue sky, and the woman in her black cloak that approached them, a bucket in each hand. 

“Eve!” Gawain shouted it out and ran to her, even his footsteps leaving white chasms in the deep snow. She set the buckets down and allowed him to sweep her up in his arms, and turn with her once before setting her back on her feet, kissing her soundly. The joy was obvious in her face.

“You’ll spill the water Gawain.” Merlin chided as he approached the pair, taking up the two heavy containers. Gawain simply laughed at him. The lightness in his heart was almost palpable.

“You have a beautiful home milady, thank you so much for sharing it with us.”

Eve bowed her head with a smile.

Now that the sun had finally emerged their environs were properly visible. The cottage was simple but well crafted, and the plot Merlin had assumed was a garden most certainly was; laid out in even rows with stakes poking out of the snow at regular intervals to hold the vines that must have grown there in the summer. The woods that surrounded them were thick, yet careful paths between the trunks were obvious to Merlin. The home itself sat in a minimal clearing, as if it was protected by nature itself. The well, where Eve had obviously drawn the water, was hidden around the side of the home, disguised by now bare bushes. For a few wonderful moments, as Merlin took in the sight of it all everything was completely quiet. And then he had the sense of something.

“Someone’s coming.” He whispered. Eve whirled in the direction Merlin was looking and Gawain immediately drew his sword. The pounding of a horse’s hooves became audible. 

*Get in the house!* Merlin screamed in his head, and Eve did as he asked, thankfully. He looked down at his hands, two buckets certainly didn’t seem to offer much in terms of a weapon, so he dropped them and steeled himself for whatever was about to come upon them, empty handed, but mind full. Though he didn’t stay empty handed for long, as Eve returned and pressed the pommel of a sword into his right palm. He looked at it: an old piece, unadorned, but serviceable. He also noted the oddest-looking knife in her hands, it seemed she had no intention of staying out of the fight, whomever it was with. There was no time to argue, and Merlin wasn’t certain that he would have even tried.

The hoof beats grew louder, along with the crackling of the forest itself as it was violently breached by the massive grey horse and the crimson-cloaked rider.

“Percival!” Gawain sheathed his sword in a fluid motion as he ran towards the giant of a man who was dismounting with equal grace.

“Gawain!” The smaller man found himself caught up in the embrace of Percival, yanked off his feet by a few inches. Merlin thought it looked an oddly similar greeting to what Gawain himself had given Eve. Though without the kiss, thank goodness.

“Merlin! You are alive as well.” Percival dropped Gawain with a thud that raised up a cloud of snow as he came to him, clapping him so hard on the shoulder that he stumbled forward, barely holding onto his blade. He coughed with the force and heard Gawain’s laughter behind him as he righted himself.

“And who is this lovely lady?” Chivalrous, even with his big size, Percival went down on one knee before Eve, and turned his face up to look at her expectantly.

“This is our friend Eve.” Fully recovered from his greeting, Gawain made the introduction.

“I am most pleased to make your acquaintance Lady Eve.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it gallantly. Merlin noticed that she had tucked her knife into the fold of her surcoat, covering her mouth delicately to conceal a smile. He meant to have a closer look at that knife at the earliest opportunity. A chorus of hooves joined Percival’s horse, as the rest of the party caught up with him. Eve ducked a little behind Merlin as a host of men arrived, all in their crimson and mail, and all heavily armed.

“Well, you two are alive.” Arthur remarked as he leapt from his own saddle. “We feared the worst when Gawain’s riderless horse returned to the citadel with the storm on its heels.” Arthur embraced Gawain, and gave a civil nod to Merlin; it was understood, at least by Arthur it seemed, that he could offer little else due to Merlin’s station. He did grin though, and Merlin hadn’t missed the flash of relief that had been on Arthur’s face as he had caught sight of them all. It was enough. “What happened to you?” He asked.

“We were ambushed by Morgana’s men, Gawain was poisoned. We managed to escape into the forest.”

“What Merlin means is that he dragged me into the forest, unconscious. We were lucky that Eve found us and was able to help.”

“Eve is a healer Arthur.” Merlin meant to stave off any potentially uncomfortable questions by adding that fact quickly to Gawain’s narrative.

“Eve?” Arthur cocked his head, finally paying attention the woman who had drawn herself into her cloak. She dropped to her knees immediately.

“Rise My Lady. I must offer you my sincere thanks for keeping my men safe. You have done a great service to Camelot.”

She straightened herself slowly, still keeping her eyes down. Merlin wanted to reach for her hand but held himself in check.

“But for Eve, Gawain and I would have perished in the forest Arthur.” He wanted to ensure that Arthur understood just how invaluable Eve had been.

“Then you must name your reward Lady Eve.” There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment as Arthur stared at her. “Will you not answer me?”

She looked to Merlin, eyes wide with concern.

“She cannot speak Arthur.”

“And you have had to spend these last few days listening to these men without being able to quiet them? Well then, you most certainly deserve a reward. Come now, would you have dresses, or jewels? Merlin tells me ladies like such things?”

She shook her head demurely.

*I need no reward Emrys.*  
“Perhaps a horse? Or some chickens?” Arthur was grasping at straws, Merlin knew he was not used to having to tease out answers. The King became easily frustrated in such situations, and he knew he had to step in.

“Perhaps we could replace her stores? She has kept Gawain and I well fed these past days.”

“And we all know how much Gawain can eat.” Percival chimed in.

“You’re one to talk.” Gawain countered in his own defense.

“An excellent idea Merlin.” Arthur smiled, his disease abated. “In two days my Lady, my men will return with stores to replace your larder, and more besides.” 

“And perhaps Arthur?” Gawain added, “since Morgana has shown herself to be a presence in this region now, perhaps the knights can check on her as they make their patrols?”

“Another excellent idea Gawain. We must ensure that our allies are all safe, unless of course the Lady Eve would like to return to Camelot with us? A skilled healer is always welcome: Gaius is elderly, and Merlin, well, Merlin does his best.” Arthur pursed his lips together and smiled in a most insincere manner.

Eve shook her head slowly. 

“I think she would prefer to remain here, in her own home for the time being Arthur.” Merlin translated.

“Is this so?”

She nodded.

“Then we will ensure that the patrols check on you. And you must know that you will always be welcome in Camelot.”

She bowed to Arthur.

“Come then gentlemen, we will leave this woman in peace and return home now that we have found our lost friends.”

Percival brought forth Gawain’s horse from deep in the pack of steeds, but before going to take up the reigns Gawain went to kneel in front of Eve, taking her hands.

“Thank you again milady, for saving my life.” He kissed her hands as Percival had done, with chaste chivalry.

“I just need to fetch something from inside.” Merlin felt the anxiety of being parted so roughly from Eve. He ducked into the cottage, pulling her along with himself.

*I am so sorry that we have to leave like this Eve.*

*I understand Emrys.*

*I wish we had more time to speak.*

*We will.*

*May I see your knife, please?*

She pulled the long bronze point from her cloak and held it out for him.

*How did you come upon this?* He turned it over in his hands. 

*My Grandmother told me it belonged to my father, just as the sword I gave you did.*

*But this is not a dagger Eve, it is the point of a lance. Did she tell you that?*

*She did not.*

*And you know nothing of its origins?*

*I am sorry Emrys, I do not.* Eve’s forehead was beginning to wrinkle in concern for the questions Merlin was posing in such a hasty manner.

*You must keep it safe, there is something about it, I don’t know what yet, but I will discover it.*

*I promise I will keep it safe.*

“Merlin! Are you coming or not?” Arthur called from outside.

*I have to leave. But I will be back.*

*I know Emrys.*

He made his way to the door, Eve following. As he took the arm Gawain offered to swing up behind him on his mount he looked back at her.

*Two days, I will be back in two days.*

She only smiled, and wrapped her arms around her abdomen tightly.

“Two days Eve.” He said out loud, craning his head around as Gawain kicked the horse to motion, following the other knights back through the dense forest.

*You must call me Amite Emrys, it is my true name.*

*Amite? Oh dear God.* Revelation crushed his chest as surely as if Percival himself had sat on it.

It was too late to turn back, too late to jump from the horse, not that Merlin wouldn’t have tried it if the trees themselves were not holding him back.

“Gawain, we have to go back.” He tugged at his friend’s shoulder. 

“We will Merlin, in two days.” He took a breath, Two days.” He repeated the words to himself in much the way Merlin was using them, like an oath.

“How can you ride away from her like this, how can you just leave her behind Gawain?”

Merlin could feel the man’s body tense where he was pressed up against him, hanging on as they wove through the trees.

“Believe me Merlin when I say that this is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his knuckles whitening where he held the reigns.

“Then why?”

“Because Arthur needs us, and our own desires have to be placed to the side for that.”

“I don’t want to be that noble Gawain.”

“But you will be.” He spurred the horse on harder.


	6. Chapter 6

It killed Merlin not to tell Gaius the whole truth, but he had sworn to Eve, now Amite, that he would not reveal her secret to anyone, and he intended to honor that promise. So he took the embrace from the elderly man upon his return to the citadel, and recounted as much of the tale of his and Gawain’s adventure as he could. And when the man was satisfied enough, and had asked his questions about the methods for drawing out the poison, and had checked on Merlin’s leg himself, then Merlin felt it was all right to slip away and find some time for himself, to consult the texts that Gaius kept, to validate his suppositions about that lance head and her name.

There were stories, weren’t there always stories? Of days past and sorcery and heroes? The only hard part, for him at least, was sorting out which ones were just stories, and which ones were far closer to the truth than most people wanted to believe. The Holy Grail fell into the latter category. Merlin could admit to himself that he might be reaching in his arrival at that conclusion about Amite, but learning to trust his instincts had been something he’d proven time and again to be a good idea (as he thought back on those decisions): and his instincts were yelling quite loudly in his ears about this one.

No matter what story Eve had been told, or not told as the case was, by her grandmother about her birth parents, Merlin had cause to mistrust it. True, he was basing his assumptions on her hidden name, Amite, and her possession of a lance head, but it all seemed so very convenient. And to deny the truth of her birth would offer a great deal of protection, to say nothing of the puzzle of her grandmother’s death before such things could be revealed. There were far too many questions coming at Merlin from all sides of his brain, and it sincerely began to ache.  
The Fisher King’s tales, (or Pellam, or Pellas, he had many names), had the constant connection of a lance throughout: a lance that had pierced his thighs and left him crippled and in constant pain. He was also the last keeper of the Grail, at least as far as Merlin understood the tales. And, he had a daughter, also known by many names, one of them, Amite. It was just too many coincidences to keep Merlin’s stomach settled. The bigger question was though, what did it all mean? And where did he, and Gawain fit into it all, because it certainly felt as though they were meant to somehow.

He needed a drink.

As much as Arthur tended to tease him about going to the tavern, Merlin didn’t actually make a habit of it. But as the sun set and his angst grew, he knew that nothing was going to settle unless he went for a walk. And if that walk ended up with a tankard in his hand, well, so much the better.

The tavern was a raucous place, as it usually was, perhaps even more so as its patrons had been kept indoors and away from it for two nights with the storm. Merlin wasn’t surprised to see a group of the knights there, or to be invited over to join them. Arthur might not have been able to acknowledge his worth publically, but the knights could, and did, mostly, not that it prevented them from the occasional jab here and there about his cooking or (feigned) clumsiness. 

“Returned from the dead, that’s certainly worth a drink. Barkeep, a mug for my friend here!” Percival always seemed to be in an honestly jovial mood when he was away from the fighting. Although, he also did sometimes when he was engaged in the fighting, as long as their side was winning. Merlin envied that unburdened manner. The pewter mug was pressed into his hand and filled by Percival with a slosh of deep amber liquid. It tasted bitter, but decent as Merlin took a great mouthful and let himself sink into a purloined chair from a nearby table.

Gawain sidled up to Merlin, thumping him with his shoulder in a friendly but knowing manner, his grin ever present.

“How fair you Merlin?”

“As well as can be expected.” Merlin sighed deeply. Gawain lowered his voice and leaned in with his response. 

“It is only a day Merlin. If you keep this up everyone will think you are utterly besotted with her.”

“What if I am, what harm is there in that?”

“Besides good natured ribbing? Merlin, we will bring on a great deal of questions, and distractions from our greater purpose.”

Merlin sighed; so much for forgetting his issues in a drink.

“What is our greater purpose then Gawain?”

“So many things Merlin, the foremost of which are Camelot and Arthur.”

“And nothing else and no one else.” Merlin’s voice became despondent, even to his own ears.

“At least we still have each other.” Gawain smirked, and winked at Merlin, which caused him to nearly choke on his drink.

“You aren’t making this any easier you know?”

“It isn’t supposed to be easy.”

“Well then, we have succeeded at something Gawain.” Merlin knocked his mug against Gawain’s, the liquid rolling around in them both, the peal pleasing to his ears.

 

The walk home wasn’t stumbling, at least on his part; Merlin couldn’t speak to the condition of many of the knights. But he would never begrudge them a night off for happiness or solace whenever they could find one. By morning they would be back on the practice field, ankle deep in the snow if that was what they were presented with, not a utterance of displeasure on their parts, determination in their eyes hiding any weakness. But for that night, they were all smiles and clumsy feet, and Gawain had an arm around Merlin’s shoulders, their newfound connection exploited for stability, if not commiseration. As they reached the castle proper the men began to peel off in the directions of their quarters by ones and twos, depending upon their individual stability.

“Can you get Gawain safely put away?” Percival asked of Merlin before the hulking man pushed open his own door.

“Yes, I’ll take him to bed.” Merlin answered.

“Promises, promises.” Gawain muttered, earning a smack from Merlin, who though he was still well disposed to his companion, was becoming a little anxious about his own concerns being left by the wayside. None too gently, the knight was tossed onto his bed, his boots yanked off and his legs tangled into the blankets.

Without actually voicing his intentions, Merlin poured a cup of water for his friend, and took it back to the bed, sitting carefully at his left side, pressing the liquid to his lips. It was no different than he had done for Arthur on many nights, and in truth, he did it with love, if not care.  
Gawain took a few good mouthfuls and then sat himself up more solidly, fixing his gaze on Merlin.

“What did we do Merlin? I know it was only a few hours back, but was any of it real?”

“It was all real Gawain.”

“And what are we going to do about it?”

“I don’t know Gawain. I honestly don’t know.”

“Will you stay here for a little while? It feels,” Gawain paused, as if searching for the appropriate way to frame his thoughts, “odd, to be alone.” 

Merlin nodded, understanding completely, wondering if Gawain didn’t feel exactly the same mental upset as he. He also wondered how much of the concerning legend he should speak of to his friend. His decision right then was none of it, knowing that it might open up discord at the most, and uncomfortable questions at the least. Until he had some certainty Merlin simply moved himself to the edge of the massive bed, resting against the footboard, which was considerably more comfortable than his own meager pallet. In only a little space of time both he and Gawain were solidly asleep.

He dreamed of the grail, and its maiden, and its king; waking to a tousled Gawain and a dry mouth and no fewer questions than when he had fallen asleep. But at least the sun had dawned, and Gawain had stayed where he was meant to, and the sounds from the kitchen spurred his belly to life and his feet to action.


	7. Chapter 7

Their packs were loaded, the horses saddled, and the courtyard a dull grey with the clouds and winter snows reflecting little off the pale stone. In truth, Merlin would have left at the very first sight of daylight; the ache in his stomach not abated these past two days and nights without her. But he forced himself to demonstrate calm when in public, and to busy himself with amassing provisions for Amite, and treats, such as he could steal from the palace kitchens. It all kept him from considering what he needed to do in terms of uncovering the truth of that lance, and perhaps the truth of herself.

The watch had departed much earlier, and it had been decided that only he and Gawain could be spared for the return to her cottage, uncomfortable stories of Morgana’s increasing presence making Arthur wary. In truth, Merlin (and Gawain himself, he suspected) was much happier with those arrangements. And as the sun hit mid day in the sky they mounted up and rode out. 

They shared few words, each of them set on their path, meeting each other’s glances only a few times over the hour’s ride. Only as they passed the spot where they had been ambushed did they pause. Of course there were no traces of what had happened, long having been covered over by the snow. Their breaths trailed upwards, along with the noisier pants from the horses.

“What do we do when we get there Gawain?”

“We give her these parcels. And then we wait to see what she wishes of us I suppose.”

The uncertainty in Gawain’s voice was jarring. No matter what situations Merlin had seen him in prior to this; he had always exuded confidence, and complete control, even when the situations had seemed quite hopeless. If Gawain was feeling the same insecurity as he was, Merlin truly wondered what was to become of them? He had spent two days, waking and mostly not sleeping, wondering if they might continue to share the same ease and intimacy that had grown over their brief time together, or whether Amite would have come to her senses, and become horrified with what they had done in the heat of the moment.

Both kicked their horses forward again, Merlin taking the lead, weaving through the close trees. He called out in much a different manner than he had the first time he had stumbled through the growth. Though it was no less a plea, and no less urgent, and perhaps no less desperate: all right, he admitted to himself, it was fairly similar, just without the imminent worry of death.

*Amite? Fare you well?*

There was no immediate answer; the acid rolled in his gut as his horse picked its way forward. 

*Amite? Please tell me you are well.* Merlin tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that the Druid communication was not generally a long-range sort of discourse, and they were still at least a quarter hour away from her cottage. But, saying her true name, even in his head brought on the concerns of her parentage, and his research, and how much she knew. The thought that somehow she could have been lying to him had sat in the back of his mind; not that he let himself believe it. Everything about her had been so sincere, everything she had said to him, so honest. Her kindness, woven into the very core of her could not have been deceptive.

“This is where she found us.” Merlin whispered it to Gawain as he recognized the spot where he had finally collapsed. “I couldn’t go any father.” 

“But you did Merlin. You always do, stop underestimating yourself. You are capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

“That is kind of you to say.”

*And it is quite true Emrys.* Still wrapped in her black robe, likely the only one she had Merlin reasoned, (before chiding himself for not bringing her another), he let a great smile cover his face. He leapt from his horse and ran to her, any fear that she might reject him, banished in her sudden presence.

“Eve.” His verbal greeting was subdued, and at least he had enough sense to use her proper spoken name in front of Gawain. She reached for him first, her pale hand emerging from the generous folds of her cloak before even her beautiful smile, or deep blue eyes. She brushed the hand down his cool cheek; again he felt the radiating warmth of her skin.

*I am so glad to see you.* And she leaned forward and kissed him soundly, melting into the arms he wrapped around her waist. Her hand curling around behind his head she kept them locked together until Gawain approached with the horses, his own smile quickly greeted by another kiss. Taking both their hands she led them home.

 

Merlin unpacked the roast chicken he had stolen from the kitchen, and the basket of bread, no longer warm, but still just as delicious as he set it out on the table. A skin of wine emerged from Gawain’s pack, and joined the feast, along with the ample provisions they had brought for her larder. Eve set out her simple plates and cups, all the while smiling, though remaining silent for even Merlin. She made up for that though, with her frequent touches, on arms, on hands, and on cheeks, as if she herself had desperately missed the company, as much as Merlin (and Gawain he suspected) had. The three sat, ate, and drank the wine as the men shared the story of the few days they had been away. Eve beamed at each, color rising in her cheeks, eyes bright with interest. As the meal was finished a complete silence fell amongst them, audible breaths being the only thing to split it. Merlin felt the tension across his skin and it was nearly unbearable.

“I have missed you.” He finally whispered. Tears began to sparkle in her eyes.

*And I you.* She reached for both their hands again and pulled them close, as close as the table between them would allow.

“You have been well milady?” Gawain asked. She nodded, and kissed his hand and then Merlin’s. “Have we brought you everything you need?” She nodded again. 

“May we be of any other service to you?” Merlin could see the held breath in his friend’s chest as the question was asked.

Her nod was slow, her smile serene as she rose from the table fluidly.

“Oh thank god.” Gawain murmured, prompting a quiet laugh from Merlin, who couldn’t help it, what with the relief he felt. They came together by the fire again, locked in an embrace with Eve at the center.

Mail and cloaks had long been left aside, shirts and leathers remained, surcoats and shifts, pulled at in a slow, calculated dance as they sank to the furs at the hearth. Emboldened by the soft words and cries that only he could hear, it was Merlin who pulled at the ties at her neck, and exposed the ivory skin there to his mouth.

She tasted vaguely of lavender, and the salt of her anticipation. It only made him hungrier for her, and he let his hands push the cotton from her shoulders, guiding it to pool around her waist. He was vaguely aware of Gawain’s hands circling her breasts, but it only made her arch her head backwards, exposing more of her neck to him, a pleasure he took greedily. The only distraction came as her hands lit on him, kneading him to painful attention. 

He laid her back into Gawain’s embrace and came to her, needing beyond any desperation he could recall, to be inside her. Leaning forward to kiss her mouth and take her tongue within him, Merlin felt her hands free his desires and guide him to her. Her body was hot, and yielded to him with a cry that echoed within his skull and drew forth a moan from his throat. Her arms wrapped his back, drawing his weight onto her body, and along with her warmth and perfect skin, Merlin could feel the rougher hands of his friend, still clasping at her body, feeling her movements through his own skin; and it all seemed absolutely proper to Merlin just then. He took each stroke deeply, and slowly, immersing himself in the feeling of her and that place, and the magic that enveloped them all, whether they were all aware of that or not. Merlin wasn’t even certain himself, if it was he who was exuding it, or Amite, or the place. It didn’t truly matter, all that did, just then, was the building climax in his core and hers. When it came, it clutched at his chest as if pushing out all the air, replacing it with a shudder and a wave that left him limp in her arms, against her chest, feeling her slow breaths nearly in time with his. The fact that he could just have made love to a princess, the daughter of the Fisher King himself hardly even factored into his thoughts as he stroked her skin carefully, and listened to her heartbeat.

“I am yours. Wholly and completely yours.” He whispered to her, feeling her hand come over to cradle his head against her. Just as fluidly a second set of hands enfolded them both, sharing their strength, and after a few moments Merlin pulled himself away from Amite’s body and gave her the freedom to go to Gawain, a freedom she took.

Watching them was oddly surreal, as Amite held his hand but not his gaze. Her eyes were given over to Gawain just then. From where he sat, face to the fire, back to the shadows, he could see the flow of their bodies as they moved together. He made no attempt to pull his eyes away. Together they were beauty, and power, and in a strange way, a part of him. Gawain’s skin was rough and peppered with coarse, dark hair, his legs lean, and the skin of his arms tight over muscles as he held himself over her. His thighs were concave with the tension as he joined with her, hers glistening with the recent passions. He was gifted with her soundless cries, the arching of her neck and back, and Merlin, with her words, loud in his head; every expression of love, echoed physically as she clutched at them both. The flood of her climax washed over them both and both men spoke at the same time, in their fashions.

“I love you.” And tears rolled from her eyes as she allowed herself to be embraced completely.


	8. Chapter 8

8.  
*I don’t know when I will be able to come back Amite.* Merlin had been dreading speaking the words to her, but he knew it was the truth, and so did she he suspected. *Gawain will be able to ride with the patrols, but it will not be so easy for me.*

*I understand Emrys. We will find a way; I know we will. You will never be far from my heart even if our bodies are parted.*

*Nor will you be far from mine. The future has so much waiting for us, and there is more we must speak of. And I hate that we will be separated.*

She reached out to touch his face again, a small smile on her face.

*Unless you will come to Camelot with me? With us?*

*I cannot Emrys.*

*I will keep you safe. I promise you that. Gawain will promise you the same thing.*

*I have no doubt, but this is my home Emrys.* Her forehead wrinkled, her lips parted, as if on the cusp of an utterance, but she offered nothing else except the will, it seemed, for Merlin to understand.

Gawain had gone to see to the horses, and Merlin knew he had only a little time left alone with her, to talk and to try to get a little more information to aid in his search. While he had been able to put aside his concerns as they had reunited, and as they had made love, they began to seep back into his rational mind as he thought of leaving her unprotected once again.

*Amite? Did your Grandmother tell you anything else about the sword and the lance that she bid you keep safe?*

*Little else than that they had belonged to my father. For that reason alone I heeded her words. Why? Have you discovered something about them Emrys?*

*Not yet, I only wonder how your father might have come to possess a lance head so ancient.*

*Perhaps it was gifted to him by another?*

*Perhaps it was, perhaps he had been entrusted to its safekeeping, just as you have been?* And perhaps it was as simple as that, Merlin hoped to himself. If this woman were not burdened with yet another hardship, besides her magical nature it would have made for a simpler path. Sadly though, Merlin could not convince himself of that. Happy, simple coincidences had not been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. But he knew he could not let Amite know what he suspected; it would only frighten her, and put her at more risk of harm. 

As she took up his hands again to kiss them Gawain re-entered her cottage a leather wrapped packet in his hand. He held it out to Eve who took it with curiosity and turned it over in her hand. She tugged at the string that bound it and it opened to reveal paper and a quill, and a vial of ink. 

"Perhaps you will write for us? I have never had the pleasure of your words, not that I have lacked for understanding, I think." He added. "But to have your true thoughts would mean a great deal to me."

She nodded feverishly at him, her eyes wide with happiness. He smiled in return.

“Everything is at the ready then Merlin. We will lose the light if we don’t begin for home soon.”

“I know.” Merlin sighed, pasting a smile on his face.

“Then we will take our leave of you milady.” Gawain bowed his head a little. “I will come by with the patrols soon. And I will carry whatever letters you might wish to send safely between you and Merlin until we can return alone.”

“Thank you Gawain, that is very kind of you.” Merlin could hardly believe that he hadn’t thought of the idea himself. 

“It is the least I can do Merlin. Forgive me milady, but you can read and write yes?” 

Eve nodded and rose with Merlin, going to give Gawain a last kiss. Again her eyes sparkled with her budding tears, but she kept them from falling, holding his hand tightly, looking at him in such a way that he did understand what was in her eyes. 

“Will you not come with us milady? We could make a safe home for you within the citadel.”

Casting her eyes downward, she shook her head. Merlin could tell she was fighting back those same tears, and he wondered whether the second request hadn’t moved her mind just slightly towards their purpose. 

“You have only to ask.” Gawain conceded when she had composed herself. And she pursed her lips together and nodded.

She took an embrace from both men in turn and stood in the doorway waving as they mounted up and turned away from her, the horses raising some of the powdery snow in the zeal to return to warmer stables and a meal. 

*Keep yourself safe and well Amite.*

*You must do the same, and watch for Gawain, so that we may all come together again soon Emrys.* He heard it in his mind, but could not turn back to see her.

 

Their letters were benign at best, not because Merlin didn’t trust Gawain to carry them unopened between them, but because he did not dare that they fall into the wrong hands by some misadventure. So they contained simple details about what she wanted to plant in her garden come spring, how she had used the kind gifts they had brought her, and (though disguised) her deep affections. In return, and in kind, Merlin spoke a little of life in the citadel, but not enough to give away any information, of the healing mixtures he made, and the occasional story about Arthur, but only in so much as he treated Merlin. And, of course, he reciprocated his feelings for her, and how frustrating it was that with all his tasks, that he could not escape to see her. But still he held into every letter for the connection it offered. Though they were cold comfort as the sun set, when he was released from his duties to Arthur, released to his own thoughts.   
The Grail was never far from those thoughts. He wondered if the wounded king (Amite’s presumed father) still lived, and where his wasteland lay? He wondered how both would be healed, and from whence would come the person to do it? It robbed him of sleep on so many nights; deficiencies that Arthur seemed to take great delight in pointing out. Not that Arthur was particularly cruel, but he seemed to take out a great deal of his own stress on the closest thing to him that would not leave him; Merlin. 

Gawain provided some solace. At least in relating that Amite was safe, and in commiserating how suddenly hollow Merlin felt. They spent more time together than they ever had before, and this had prompted some odd looks from the other knights, though only Percival had actually voiced his curiosity. His concern had been that something was wrong with Merlin, but he truly had no idea, and Merlin wasn’t prepared to enlighten him. Instead they shared a pint, and Merlin reassured him that Arthur’s stresses were the only cause. And at least part of that statement was the truth, though Merlin was coming to realize just how much he did lie to those around him. Introspection was killing him.

He had been clearing up after a meeting when Gawain found him, looking nearly out of breath, clutching a piece of folded paper. He still had his cloak on from his ride, and his boots were sodden with the muck of oncoming spring.

“What’s wrong?” Merlin dropped the platter he had been using to tidy up the goblets from the table. The silver rang like bells as it fell, and rolled about on the polished wooden surface. Gawain pushed one of the papers at him.

“She was afraid. She tried not to let me see it, but she was afraid of something.” His eyes were quite serious, actually, most everything about his stance was. 

“And you didn’t read this?” The tone was almost accusatory.

“It was addressed to you Merlin. And, there wasn’t time. The patrol had been delayed. The villagers closest to her had many tales to tell about strange goings on. It kept us back for nothing but the worry of witches.” Just the word made Merlin feel cold, and he tore open the wax seal, reading her dainty script quickly.

“It says that she was approached by a young woman and her child while she was out in the woods. The child was feverish and Eve could not leave them in that state.”

“Just as she found us, and saved my life.” Gawain murmured.

“She took them home, and cared for the child with her medicines. But now she is frightened that others may seek her out. She has taken quite the risk to even write this. She must be truly afraid Gawain. We have to go to her.”

“She was afraid when I said that she had enchanted me.” Gawain mused, not quite ignoring Merlin’s statement.

“She has reason to fear Gawain. She has told me that her parents were thusly accused.” For a moment, as the words slipped from his lips, Merlin wondered if he had broken a confidence. Gawain’s reaction validated the risk.

‘This is why she is alone isn’t it?”

“It is. And why we have to go.”

“It is too late now to travel. We must trust that the dark will conceal her for one night longer. We will ride in the morning.”

“And what of Arthur?”

“Perhaps in this case, it will be easier to ask forgiveness, rather than permission?”

“I agree.”

The pact was made and once again that night, Merlin did not sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

9

They rode fast, very fast, greeting the dawn on horseback. They’d saddled their own mounts, slung their own packs, and hoped that the stable boys would sleep a little longer. A warm breeze was blowing, and Merlin noted, as he passed into the borders of the woods, that the trees were beginning to bud, and even the air itself finally smelled of renewal. It gave him little comfort because he had spent the night thinking of every terrible thing that could have happened, that could have been happening to Amite while both he and Gawain were safe within the citadel walls. He should have insisted, he should have forced her to come with them, he should have, he should have, he berated himself though he could not have done that and he knew it, and the whole matter made him feel sick at heart. He could hardly keep his eyes from glowing with the magic that needed to escape his skin, wanting so desperately to pull on his skills to see ahead; to see what was happening with her, to use the only gifts he felt he had.

The riders passed the first waymark of their journey, now quite barren of snow, and Merlin began to feel an even more intense sense of foreboding, such that the hair on his arms began to prickle. He spurred his horse onwards, leaving Gawain on his heels. As he took the point, Merlin realized for the first time, that he was intensely jealous of Gawain for the fact that he had been able to see her so many times since the winter, while Merlin had been left to content himself with pieces of paper, no matter what the words inscribed there upon. The feeling that understanding left in his chest was foul; he despised the ugliness and pettiness, and looking back at Gawain, whose face showed such sincere concern, he banished the bile once again, knowing innately in those eyes, that Gawain’s feelings were both earnest, and honest. It seemed so hard to keep all his doubts from invading his consciousness, even worse than the darkness that night brought. Gritting his teeth he pushed the horse even harder.

Merlin heard the first screams, the only screams she could offer, in his head and nearly dropped his reigns with the shock of them.

“She’s in trouble Gawain, we have to hurry!” He set his horse to gallop as if the beast could actually feel the urgency in its rider, and perhaps it could. Breaking through the tree line both men glimpsed what had to have been their worst fears realized.

Eve was being held up by a man on each arm, her hair had been pulled askew and her head was down. Her hands were limp and when she looked up at their noisy approach, her face was tear stained, her lips red from the same salt. There were others, six men in total, scattered about her and the cottage, and they all looked at Merlin and Gawain as they pulled up on their horses, leaping from their saddles. 

“Unhand her!” They both yelled at nearly the same moment, though Gawain’s command held a little more of a threat as he pulled forth his sword from its scabbard and pointed it at the men who were holding Eve.

“This is not your concern!” The man called back, “This is a matter for our people, this is a witch, and she will bring a curse upon our lands.”  
Merlin could hear her sobbing.

“She is not a witch! She is a healer!” He yelled.

“She has consorted with the devil, we have proof!” The man yelled back, clutching Eve’s arm more tightly as Gawain approached, the tip of his blade held at waist level, his arms coiled like springs, ready to drive the point home. 

“What proof do you have?” The knight questioned.

“She has no husband, and yet,” with a self-satisfied flourish the villager used his short blade to sever the tie that held her coat wrapped around her waist, the folds fell away to reveal the obviously swollen belly. “Yet,” he reiterated with glee, “she is with child. Who else could be the father but the devil?”

“That is no proof!” Merlin heard the words tumbling from his mouth, but he hardly remembered saying them, so stunned was he by the sight.

“She will not say who the father is. And no man from the village has been here to see her.”

“She cannot speak you fool!” The man seemed to be ignoring Merlin completely, so set was he in the script he had written to justify his own actions.

“At the least, she is a whore!” The village man countered.

“Don’t call her that!” Gawain’s voice had been reduced to a growl and he advanced on the men who pulled Eve further backwards.

“Then who is the father?”

“I am!” Merlin and Gawain answered with a single voice.

“What?” 

Silence filled the glade for only a split second as Merlin came forward.

“The good knight here owes this woman a great debt, as do I.” Merlin began, approaching Eve slowly. He knew that if he could not convince the men to release her with his words, that he would kill them all where they stood, no matter the witness he had in Gawain. “In concern for her safety this knight has claimed to be the father, but he need not sully his reputation when I am prepared with the truth. I am the father.”

“Merlin?” The young wizard hadn’t heard the approaching hooves, and hadn’t expected Arthur’s voice to interrupt the proceedings.

“Your Majesty.” The men dropped Eve’s arms and fell to their knees; Merlin was there to catch her, and to pull her away from them. Gawain was at his side in an instant, sword still at the ready.

“Did I hear you correctly Merlin?” Arthur was still atop his mount, looking down at Merlin, his arms crossed, his eyebrows raised, expecting an answer, others of his personal guard reigning up behind him. It seemed that he and Gawain had been followed after all. 

“Sire?” Merlin tried to look innocent, something which was difficult to accomplish with a tearful, pregnant Eve in his arms, and Gawain at their sides, still prepared to kill.

“About the baby Merlin?” 

Merlin could not help but grin at Arthur; he felt such sudden, overwhelming relief. Though he did chance a look at Gawain, who appeared just as stunned at the turn of events as Merlin himself felt. He wished he could explain everything to his friend, quickly and quietly, to reassure him that his actions were done only to protect him.

“Yes Arthur, the child is mine.” He clutched Eve to his chest.

“Is this true My Lady?”

Eve nodded slowly at Arthur, her head turning to look at Gawain as she did so, sorrow in her eyes.

*I will explain it to Gawain Amite. But please, you must tell me, am I, is he?*

*Yes Emrys. I am so sorry I did not tell you afore now. I did not dare write the truth of it.*

*You do not need to explain anything to me Amite.*

Gawain sheathed his sword as Arthur dismounted.

“Your Majesty?” One of the village men began to stand, looking at Arthur.

“Did I give you leave to rise!” The man sank down again, bowing his head. “How dare you threaten a woman under my protection?” Arthur was drawn up into his full majesty as he lorded over the kneeling men.

“We did not know.” He mewled. 

“One of a number of things you did not know apparently.”

“But things are well then, your man will marry her and things will be set to right in the eyes of the Lord. We will fetch the Father from the village, he will see to things this very day.”

“No.” It was Merlin’s voice. Everyone stared at him. “No. Even if Eve agrees to this it will not be done here, I will have nothing to do with your paranoia, and it will not taint anything so sacred.”

“Seems reasonable.” Arthur admitted. “And, I think it only fair that considering your new amity, you offer up a dowry for this woman.” He turned his attention back to the ringleader. “Oh, get up!”

“Sire?” All the men stumbled to their feet.

“You will go back to your village and return with a cart, a decent one, and one big enough to pack this woman’s things.” He returned his gaze to Eve.   
“I am sorry my dear but you cannot remain here now, for so many reasons.” Arthur looked pointedly at Merlin with his eyebrows raised. “You will come to the citadel. Gwen’s house has stood empty these many months, it will make a fine home for you, and perhaps your husband?”

“You are most generous Arthur.” Merlin offered with a little bow. “Gawain and I will be pleased to assist the Lady with gathering her things while you see to her safe passage.”


End file.
